Got along with Starbucks lovers, they'll tell you I'm insane.

He saw me from across the cafe. He saw me sipping away at my caramel frappe, trying to prolong its life so that I could justify spending an humane amount of time at Starbucks, reading, trying to avoid being home. Being in public stopped me from watching porn and fingering myself and doing nothing else much at home while waiting to start my gap year trip around the world. He saw me alone and he came over. And that's how it all began.

"Hi. I saw you from over there. You've been sitting here alone for a while so I thought it was safe to assume you weren't expecting anyone. Also I wanted to come talk to a pretty girl la but that's not so important"

He was direct and brave. I liked that. Most guys are too scared to approach and tell girls they're interested in them. So what if you're not "good looking"?? Tip for girls my age: remember that guys who come up and talk to us aren't wearing make up and before you turn them down, remember what you yourself look like without make up.

Anyway back to the story. He stood rather awkwardly at the edge of my table and although the he tried his best to avoid looking needy, I could see it in his eyes, the look of lust that men often try to pass off as passion. Slowly, I returned his cheeky hopeful grin with a steady, confident smile of my own. "Hey, you're right. I was just alone at home so I decided to come here in the hopes of something fun happening. Till now, no luck. But maybe you can change that," I said, with a grin that hinted my intentions, echoed by my pantyless self.

He fingered his shirt and I motioned to the empty seat next to me. He gathered his stuff and returned to my table and sat next to me and we made a pretty odd pair. Me in my class t shirt, braless and pink FBTs, him in his shirt, rolled up sleeves, skinny jeans, hair combed back with just the right amount of wax. "So you live around here? I'm new here so I don't really know anyone." I believed him, he felt trustworthy for some reason. "Yeah I live a couple of bus stops away. So you plan on carrying on this conversation without telling me your name?" I shot back, daring him to grow a pair. He stared into my eyes for a second, I could hear him thinking, weighing up the odds. And then he drew a breath, and boy did he grow a pair.

"Our names aren't important. I know what you're up to. Do you really think I can't see your nipples screaming through your t shirt? I can be whatever name you want me to be. What matters is: who do you want to be?" He returned my challenge with a salvo that instantly flicked a switch in my loins. I could feel myself burning at my nether regions. This boy, whose name I didn't even know, was making me hot and stuffy. For the first time in this conversation, I lost control and he could sense it, he knew he had me on the ropes. I was his for the taking, and he cocked his head to one side, trying to figure out what I was up to, his eyes drifting down my shirt, and I followed his gaze. He was right. My nipples were freezing and sharp and I could almost hear them saying "give us liberty or a bra dammit!"

I let my hair fall from behind my ear and give me sometime to compose myself, and just when I thought I had a good enough reply, I felt his hand rest lightly on my knee. This was shockingly new to me. Guys in Singapore would never think of doing that, and here was this guy, who had staked his flag on my body, declaring that I was his conquest to anyone who might care to glance in our direction. We sat like that for a second and I could see him grinning from the side of my glass and it was at that point that I knew all I really cared about, all I really wanted, was him in me, him on me, him under me, his manhood in my mouth, his balls across my face, him shooting ropes and ropes of his warm cum on my face. I wanted him. I wanted him to use me. No guy has ever made me this way, and I loved it. Time to take back control from this cocky son of a bitch.

I mustered whatever courage I had left, and after checking to see if anyone was looking our way, reached across and laid my hand directly on his lap, feeling for his wood. His body stiffened and in my mind I could feel the blood rushing to the one piece of muscle I truly cared about on this boy's body. His gaze never left my face and I could tell he would never relinquish control, but I was definitely giving him a run for his money. He grew under my soft hand, as I gently caressed him, my eyes locked to his. He grew and he hardened, and when I tightened my grip on his cock he let out an involuntary gasp. So much for control. He turned a shade of scarlet that I vaguely remembered seeing once, in the mirror. Oh right that was my throbbing vagina, begging for relief. I had an idea.

"If you aren't up to anything and you'd like to get up to something, follow." And with that I abruptly stood up, and walked out of the Starbucks, leaving him with one five second tease of an over the jeans cock rub. And follow he did.

He followed me on the bus and into the lift and then he couldn't control himself. I had barely hit the button marked 16 when I felt his powerful arm grab my hair and yank me around. His free hand established a vice grip on my neck and pulled me close and I could feel his penis push against my FBTs and then he pulled me in and his lips were all I needed them to be: a gateway drug. He stuck his tongue in my throat, all pretense of discovery abandoned, he was taking no prisoners today. He explored my mouth, I sucked on his tongue harder and he bit my lip and my hand found his zip and then it was over. The doors opened. I grabbed his hand and pulled him to my house, on the right hand side. He wrapped his arms around my waist and each hand inched towards my moist cunt and my hardened nipples respectively. Even then he wanted to tease. He didn't go for the obvious, he ran his fingers delicately over my stomach and thighs while I furiously fumbled with the lock and we tumbled into the house. I slammed the doors behind me and he once again began an expedition of my mouth, except this time my house was pitch black and all I could do was feel. We stumbled into my room, my wet panties from last night draped over my bed. I couldn't be bothered. I slammed the door and hunted around for the air con remote and once that was settled I turned to see him standing by my bed, T-shirt off but everything else still on. So he wanted to play did he?

We stood for a second and looked at each other and then it was over. I walked over and pushed him onto my bed and sat on his lap and bent over and made out with him while riding him, clothes burning between us. He was ridiculously hard and relatively thick beneath me and I slid down a little, pausing to lips his nipples. He let out a single solitary moan "chey...enne." I thought I had him, the battle over, the victory secured, when he carried me suddenly and dropped me on the floor. "Get on your knees bitch," he said, his voice hoarse and husky with the rush that flows in equal parts to both brain and penis, that only men could ever feel. He reached over and picked up the panties that were on my bed and he took a deep breath, smiling lustily. Then he tossed it aside and looked expectantly at me. I slowly started kneeling but he grabbed my arm and tugged at my shirt. I pulled it off and his eyes sparkled with an anger and a passion I hadn't yet experienced. His finger appreciatively ran down my nose and my lips and down to my chest. He pinched my left nipple and reached down to bite on my right. I let out a moan of pain and pleasure, the burning sensation only serving to fuel my need to be used violently. He placed a hand on my head and pushed me down to my knees. He gestured towards his belt and I knew what I had to do. I unbuckled him slowly, fiddling with the button and the zip slowly. I pulled his jeans and saw his wood bulge in his Calvin Klein boxers. I started to inch his boxers down, slowly, as carefully trimmed hair ends started showing, and then the shaft, throbbing with passion and blood, I kissed his shaft, stopped pulling and kissed his tip. The tip area of the boxers was moist with pre cum, a lovely taste that reminded me of lemons and salt, lots of salt. I licked his tip through his boxers and felt a painful crushing sensation as he grabbed a fistful of hair and grunted "stop teasing whore." His eyes were closed and his Adam's Apple throbbed and I was shocked. He didn't even know me and he was calling me a whore and the best part was that I felt and wanted to be treated like one. I obliged and yanked off his boxers and I was squatting close to his legs so his penis hit me square in the middle of the face, right in between my eyes, above my nose.

It was gloriously thick and juicy looking, at least 8 inches without a doubt. Not circumcised but his foreskin rolled back nicely to give me access to his head, filled with nerve endings that I was going to enjoy exploiting. I took his shaft in my hands and pumped slowly but it was as solid as oak wood and it wasn't gonna get any bigger. Slowly, I put him in my mouth. His pre cum immediately hit my taste buds and I looked up at him. For the first time since he forced me down, his eyes were open and he was looking down into my eyes, head cocked to one side, curious and excited. I could taste it. Slowly I took more of him, deeper and deeper, my spit pooling in my mouth and flowing onto his cock. The more I pumped with my mouth the less I gagged and the wetter his dick got. He reached down and twisted my nipple and it was all I could do to not bite down. I looked up at him and he looked like he was about to say something...

And then he spat on my face, and as I flinched away I just knew he was grinning. For a second I was stunned, my eyes squeezed close, as I felt his warm saliva drip from my eyes down towards my mouth. And I loved it. I took him out of my mouth and rubbed his cock on my face, letting the spit lubricate him. I pumped away for a minute and then he did his signature crushing grip on my neck and pulled me up. He looked at my face, a mess of spit and pre cum and he lifted me up to his height and threw me on the bed and said "hold your legs out." I obliged and he pulled my FBTs off. He took my hands and told me to hold my knees to my ears and I did so, exposing a throbbing, leaking vagina, and a tight asshole to this boy I had met half an hour ago. "Whatever the fuck you do, don't you fucking dare take your eyes off mine, understand Cheyenne?" I nodded, my exposed state betraying me as I blushed. He lowered himself onto me, his face never once leaving mine. He kissed my pussy, softly. I always shave like I've told you guys before. He slowly licked the beads of sweat and cunt juice and probed my pussy with his tongue, slowly, searchingly. He tasted my cream and I licked my lips, tasting him and his spit and my sweat and his pre cum. The air con was set to 20 degrees but I was sweating profusely. Suddenly he lifted off my pussy and lowered himself further and without any warning, kissed my asshole and stuck his tongue in that hole so exclusive that even I hadn't explored. Waves of passion flooded my body as i squirmed and he slowly alternated between my pussy and ass, tongue in one finger in the other. Index finger probed my pussy, then he abandoned the ass and stuck his middle finger in my cunt. He turned and twisted and curled and straightened all inside me. I was quivering and shaking but our eyes never left each other. My only sexual experiences till this point were limited to Andrea and Justin. But this boy, this enigma who was slurping at my creamy pussy, letting my cunt juices flow along his perfect cheekbones onto my bed, this was something else. 
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Next post, is what you've been waiting for. Keep coming back :)